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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452769">Hold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse'>PenguinofProse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Literally just Bellamy's thoughts on cuddling, SO MUCH FLUFF, Spooning, little spoon bellamy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Selected highlights from Bellamy's journey towards discovering that he loves to be the little spoon to Clarke's big spoon. Pure and insubstantial fluff.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Bellamy Blake/Gina Martin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>198</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheWallflowers/gifts">QueenoftheWallflowers</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wasn't going to post anything today but then lovely Pris got me thinking about little spoon Bellamy and - well - here we are. Happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellamy doesn't know why he feels the need to hold on tight when Clarke falls into a pit right in front of his eyes.</p><p>It's a stupid reaction, and the more he comes to think about it, the more he's annoyed with himself. Leaving her to a convenient fate would have solved all his problems, he's pretty sure. Get rid of the Princess, and the rest of the wristbands would fall. So all in all this was a stupid thing to do, and he knows that he's thrown a spanner into the workings of his own master plan.</p><p>But he's gone and done it, now. He's clung onto her hand for long enough that Murphy and Wells have helped to pull her clear of danger. And she's looking at him with a new sort of startled respect in her eyes, almost grateful, it seems, that he didn't let her go.</p><p>Now he's held Clarke's hand, here, today, there's no going back.</p><p>…...</p><p>He doesn't exactly go out of his way to hold tight to the girls who come and go from his tent at the dropship camp. Sometimes they're still there in the morning, curled to his chest, his arm draped loosely about them. More often they're not, and that's fine. These are casual hookups, more about exerting power and about an adrenaline rush to distract him from his mistakes than about lasting comfort or clinging to a warm body all through the night.</p><p>Roma slips straight through his fingers, dead, and it's all his fault. Bree hangs around a little longer, tenacious if not exactly memorable. Raven is different, taking the lead, sitting astride him, somehow untouchable.</p><p>And then there's Clarke. He doesn't realise it, yet, but <em>and then there's Clarke</em> will pretty much be his life story for the next two centuries. Everywhere he looks in the camp, she's there, making life better. Making him smile despite himself, making him calmer, more confident that they can actually make this work.</p><p>Making him ever more grateful that he held tight to her hand, that day.</p><p>She's like quicksilver, always on the move, everywhere all at once. Med bay, fire pit, water run. He fails spectacularly to pin her down, to hold her in one place long enough to get to know her. To figure out whether she really is such a Princess, or whether she's actually the most dedicated servant the human race has ever known.</p><p>He fails, too, to get her into his bed. He fails to clutch at those eye-catching breasts of hers, fails to tangle his fingers in her hair.</p><p>He still hasn't worked out how he feels about that.</p><p>…...</p><p>He works it out when she barrels into him and throws her arms about his neck. She was missing, presumed dead, but he always knew she was still hanging onto life.</p><p>"Now there's something I thought I'd never see." Octavia says.</p><p>She's got a point. He never thought he'd see it either – the day when he would cling to a girl as if drowning, holding her so tight he's pretty sure she can scarcely breathe. It's a new development in his life, to say the least.</p><p>It's a new development, but he likes it.</p><p>It makes him feel safer, less alone. It makes him feel like he doesn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and that he might not be a monster, might not be impossible to love.</p><p>And it makes him realise, rather abruptly, that he has a bit of a crush on Clarke Griffin.</p><p>He brushes that aside. He doesn't have time for juvenile romance. They have people to save.</p><p>"How many are with you?" He asks her, brisk, trying to disguise the uncomfortable emotions stirred up by his recent revelation.</p><p>"None. Where's Finn?" Finn. Of course she's asking about Finn.</p><p>"Looking for you."</p><p>Obviously he's looking for her. Who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want to try to pin down this quicksilver girl?</p><p>…...</p><p>Clarke leaves him.</p><p>He should have known she would. That's the moral of his story, isn't it? Least loved, by a mother who gave up everything to protect her daughter. Loved only when it suits her by the sister who is his responsibility. He should have realised that Clarke never really cared about him, that his pathetic lovesick heart was just clinging to tenuous signs that really meant nothing at all.</p><p>He hooks up with Gina a time or two. And then because she's a nice girl, dependable, reliable, and not going anywhere, he starts to actually build a relationship with her. He holds her at night, spoons closely around her back, because he knows that's what he's supposed to do, with a girlfriend.</p><p>"Are you on patrol in the morning?" She asks, tonight, wrapping his hand in her own.</p><p>"Yeah. What are you up to?"</p><p>"Sinclair's got me taking apart some machine he salvaged from Mount Weather for scrap."</p><p>"So you'll be free in the evening when I get back? You want to get a drink together?" He asks, because that's a thing he's supposed to do with a girlfriend, too.</p><p>"Yeah. I'd like that." She murmurs, sleepy.</p><p>He misses Clarke in moments like this. He misses her so much it hurts, so much that it makes his anger at her cut ever sharper. This is a perfectly lovely conversation. It's the kind of conversation relationships are built from – planning what ought to be a pleasant date while he holds his pretty girlfriend close.</p><p>But it's not Oppenheimer. It's not forgiveness. And it sure as hell isn't <em>I can't lose you, too</em>.</p><p>Gina's not exactly quicksilver. She's the opposite – steady, there, unremarkable. Maybe that's for the best.</p><p>…...</p><p>He's not proud of the handcuffs.</p><p>Yeah, sure, he's angry with Clarke. And he's scared, and lonely, and he just wants to know who he can really trust. He doesn't feel like he can trust Clarke any more, and that scares him.</p><p>But when he kneels at her feet, takes her hand and looks up into her eyes, he knows this is going to be the hardest thing he's ever done.</p><p>It's like that spiked pit all over again, he thinks, and deciding whether to hold on tight or let her go. Only this time, as he grasps her hands and cuffs her wrists, he's as good as pushing her over the edge and watching her fall.</p><p>…...</p><p>He puts things right with Clarke, but it takes him a while. He clings to his anger for longer than he really ought to, seeing as the world is a dangerous place and he might lose her any moment.</p><p>OK, to be fair, Clarke puts things right with him. He doesn't cave until she seeks him out, and hugs him tight, and he remembers how lovely it is to hold her in his arms.</p><p>She reaches out for his hand, not long after, when she takes the flame. He holds her fingers tight, and watches her face her fate, and remembers why he's so hopelessly in love with this infuriating women who is so impossible to pin down.</p><p>…...</p><p>They do well as the world ends. That's just typical of them, isn't it? Their relationship only finds stable ground as everything around them is falling apart.</p><p>He allows himself to get too familiar with her, in some ways. He supposes that getting close to a girl made of quicksilver is just asking for trouble. He starts to allow himself to hug her pretty routinely, to squeeze her shoulder in comfort to both of them, to generally make himself at home in her personal space.</p><p>His favourite hug of all is the last one. He doesn't know it's the last one at the time, of course – or at least, the last one they will share for six long years.</p><p>He's just said goodbye to his sister, so he's feeling pretty fragile. He doesn't know whether she heard his words of love, but he sure hopes she did. It's going to be tough, only being able to hug one of the two women who mean the world to him, for the foreseeable future.</p><p>Clarke walks in, hoping to talk to her mother.</p><p>"Hey. Do they have her?" She sees the look on his face and her voice changes a little. "Bellamy?"</p><p>He swallows. "The radio's dead. You don't get to say goodbye to your mum." Her face crumples. "I'm sorry."</p><p>It's not just her face that crumples, then. She gives way, all at once, limbs sagging and sobs bursting out of her. So obviously, he rushes over there to hold her together. He wraps her in a hug, clasps his hand around the braid of her hair, allows his face to sink down onto her neck.</p><p>There's nothing in the world quite like hugging Clarke. He understands that, now, and understands that he's been heading this way since the moment he caught her and didn't let her fall into that pit. It's not so much that Clarke belongs in his arms – it's more that his arms belong around her, and hers around him, and they're both at their best when they're supporting each other.</p><p>He loves her so damn much it scares him.</p><p>They can't hug forever. There's a rocket to prepare, provisions to load, calculations to run. And then there's a new disaster, because that's just their luck. The comms system is dead, and Clarke being Clarke, she is the one who runs out into the snow and ends up giving her life to save them all.</p><p>He stands there, ready to board the rocket, and watches the door until Raven tells him in no uncertain terms that they need to leave or die. He's seriously tempted to take the second option and wait for Clarke anyway, but he knows that's not what she would want. He clings, desperate, to that last piece of advice she gave him – that he needs to use his head, as well as his heart. So it is that gives up, lets Clarke slip through his fingers once and for all as he turns to climb aboard.</p><p>He wishes they could hold on, just another minute, but they can't.</p><p>…...</p><p>He doesn't hold Echo. Not ever, really. It's just not the kind of relationship they have. They screw plenty, distracting each other from their demons. They get on well enough during the daytime, too, teasing each other about nothing in particular. It's not the same as joking with Clarke about blood transfusions, that day he clutched at her hand and watched her walk the streets of the City of Light, but it's better than nothing.</p><p>They don't cuddle at night, though. They don't take comfort from each other's closeness, and if he's being really honest, Bellamy still feels very much alone. That's never more true than in the early hours when he startles awake, fresh from a nightmare and panting with panic, and stares at the ceiling, cold and lonely and resolutely on his own side of the bed.</p><p>Sometimes Echo rolls over a little, or makes a mildly annoyed noise at the disturbance to her sleep. One time she realises he's having a nightmare about Clarke's death, and even reaches out to pat awkwardly at his shoulder, but he brushes her aside.</p><p>Clarke would cuddle him. He knows it, even though he never shared a bed with her. Even though he never shared anything with her except guilt and ill-timed jokes and impossible only choices.</p><p>…...</p><p>He starts to try harder with Echo when the five years pass by and they're still stuck in space. There's something about the idea they might never get back to Earth that has him deciding he ought to invest more into this relationship. That's stupid, of course, because Clarke is still dead wherever he is. But he was hoping to find closure, if they ever got back to the ground.</p><p>He starts with kisses that don't lead to sex. Echo seems to like that, and they adopt a habit of making out lazily in the mornings sometimes. And that's fine, and good, but it's not what he really needs.</p><p>He takes it a step further, tries to give her a hint by holding her for a little while one night after they've finished screwing.</p><p>"Are you OK?" She asks, confusion in her tone.</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I just – this is nice, isn't it?"</p><p>She frowns. "Nice?"</p><p>"Yeah. Just cuddling like this?"</p><p>"I guess."</p><p>He gives up after that. He's got a lot of respect for Echo. The sex is good. He enjoys her company. These are all good things, and the sum of them is that he loves her, in a way. It's good enough.</p><p>But she's never going to hold him close at night, and maybe that's something he just needs to accept.</p><p>…...</p><p>Clarke's alive.</p><p>She's alive, and she's right here in this holding cell, and he has an arm round her shoulders as he holds her close. It's not quite that perfect hug they shared as the world burned, but that's OK, he figures.</p><p>She's alive, and he is determined that he will work her out, in time. He's not about to let Clarke Griffin slip through his fingers again.</p><p>…...</p><p>It takes them a while. Fate throws a few obstacles in their path – a betrayal or two, the destruction of Earth, a cult of body snatchers on a strange new moon. But Clarke still has a hold over him, when all's said and done, so they do work it out when the moment is right.</p><p>Sanctum is at peace, now, and Clarke is moving into the Lightbournes' old farmhouse with Madi and some of their friends. Echo is moving into the workshop with Raven. Bellamy doesn't know whether that means <em>with Raven</em> or just with Raven, but he supposes that isn't his business any more. Not since he and Echo decided the relationship they were still clinging to had outlasted its time and place.</p><p>Bellamy is sick and tired of watching Clarke run away. She's not quite quicksilver, these days, he decides. She's more tired, less bright and breezy than she used to be. But she's still difficult to pin down, and still has a tendency to flee from emotional challenges.</p><p>He walks right up to her, the day she is moving in, and pulls her into one of those wonderful hugs they do so well. He always feels braver, after he's had a Clarke hug to boost his courage, and he's going to need all the courage in the world to bare his soul to her.</p><p>"Are you OK?" She asks, evidently concerned by the surprise hug. "What's this about? Can I do anything?"</p><p>"You can hear me out and not run away." He tells her, mock stern, because cynical humour has always been his way of handling tough conversations with Clarke.</p><p>"That sounds scary."</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, it is a bit." He concedes, because that's the truth. "I just wanted to say that – I'm sick and tired of losing you, Clarke. I don't want to let you go ever again. Because – because I'm in love with you."</p><p>She hugs him again. He changes his mind very suddenly, when she does so. That hug they shared as the world was burning is no longer his favourite hug, because this is. Here, now, she's holding him so tight he can barely breath, crushing his rib cage as she squeezes him close. She's somehow managing to whisper words of love against his ear and press her lips to his neck in a succession of soft kisses, all at the same time, and it's almost more happiness than he can bear.</p><p>Then she pulls back and looks him right in the eyes. She's crying a little, but he's guessing they're happy tears.</p><p>"I love you, too. I'm in love with you, too. I -" She breaks off into a laugh, somewhere between hysterical and overjoyed. "What do we do now?" She asks, adorably flustered.</p><p>He has a good answer to that. She just moved into the master suite of the farmhouse, and he thinks it's past time they tried out the bed.</p><p>…...</p><p>Being with Clarke is everything he ever dreamed of, and it is more.</p><p>She's still Clarke, and he's still Bellamy. They still bicker about their plans, tease each other affectionately, support each other through the tough times. And they have quite a lot of sex, because that tends to be a feature of an enthusiastic new romantic relationship, it seems.</p><p>But there are things that are even better than he expected, too. Clarke is more comfortable and relaxed, almost from the moment they get together. It's like she feels more centred, now, more grounded, with less of that <em>disappearing act</em> tendency that has irritated Bellamy for so long. He's calmer, hates himself rather less, doesn't lose so much sleep to nightmares.</p><p>The best thing of all? The cuddling.</p><p>Bellamy always knew Clarke would be a cuddler. He always knew that if ever they shared a bed, their limbs would be intertwined from dusk till dawn. That's just how it is – hugging has always been their thing, and openly acknowledging their love has only served to enhance that.</p><p>…...</p><p>They've been together a week today. Bellamy is on dawn patrol tomorrow, so he came home and got to bed early while Clarke was still out settling some dispute with the Eligius prisoners. He's not managed to sleep much since then, though. The bed feels too big and empty without her there.</p><p>She arrives home while he's still dozing on the edge of sleep. She's moving quietly about their room in the darkness, evidently trying not to wake him up, so he hasn't the heart to tell her that he's not actually asleep in the first place. He hears her take her boots off, and then her clothes, and then pull back the covers.</p><p>She slips into the bed, and he knows what his next move is. He needs to roll over so that he can cuddle her, so that she can tangle her legs with his as she loves to do so much.</p><p>But before he gets chance to do that, she's scooted close up behind him, wrapping her arm around his waist, curving against his back, nudging one leg forward until it's between his own.</p><p>Well, now. This is new. He's never tried being the little spoon before.</p><p>"I love you." She whispers, pressing a kiss against the back of his neck.</p><p>"I love you too." He murmurs back, snuggling even deeper into her embrace.</p><p>There's a pause. He tries to decide whether he should stay like this. He's really enjoying it, feels cherished and cared for and utterly safe. But it almost feels like it didn't ought to be allowed, somehow. Like letting her hold him, protect him, comfort him is a guilty pleasure. Isn't he supposed to be doing that for her? Is it maybe a bit pathetic, to permit himself to relax and feel her taking care of him like this?</p><p>That's when he realises it – they do this for each other. They have <em>always</em> done this for each other, holding, protecting, comforting. That's why their relationship is so incredible, because it goes both ways. Because they balance each other perfectly, and have done since the moment he decided not to let her fall to her death.</p><p>"You're supposed to be asleep." She murmurs, after a moment, somewhere between affectionate and critical.</p><p>"I'm not great at sleeping without you." He acknowledges.</p><p>"That's OK. I'm here now. I've got you."</p><p>He finds her hand, intertwines their fingers. Tugging it gently towards him, he presses a kiss to the back of her hand, then tucks her arm around his waist. She's not a large woman, so she cannot reach all the way around him all at once. But that's fine – she makes up for it with gentle kisses to the back of his neck, with squeezing him tight, with fervent whispers of love until she starts to fall asleep.</p><p>He manages to find sleep soon enough, too, now that Clarke is home. It's a lot easier to relax now that he knows they will never let each other go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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